Same Words, Different Situation - Part 6
Yes, all of my four readers! It's that time again! It's time for yet another chapter of Same Words, Different Situation! I would have gotten this out before Christmas, but I was really struggling with this part. The next one I think will go faster. XD
So... without further ado...
Title: Same Words, Different Situation - Part 6
Fandom: Petshop of Horrors
Rating: PG-13
Archive: Ask and ye shall be as gods receive
Warning: Lots of profanity, flashbacks, reincarnation, possible errors about certain medical professions
Spoilers: Volume 10 of the Petshop of Horrors manga is mentioned, and will likely continue to be so. The Papa D/Vesca side story from Shin Petshop of Horrors might also be referenced
There was mistletoe in his office.
That was the first thing that Vincent noticed that morning. He sighed as he brushed the snow out of his hair. Winter had come a bit earlier than normal this year, and the snow, which generally waited until after Christmas, had come at the beginning of December. Getting to work on the bike this morning had been interesting in the Chinese curse sense of the word. And now there was mistletoe.
"What the fuck is this?" Vincent groused, glaring at the mistletoe as he shrugged out of his coat.
"It's mistletoe, Vince," his assistant's ever-cheerful voice informed him.
Vincent turned, glaring at Madeline, who had materialized in the doorway.
"I know that! Why is it in my office, Maddy?" Vincent growled.
"It's called Holiday Cheer. You should get acquainted with it," Maddy teased.
"Who appointed you the goddamn sugar plum fairy, Maddy?" Vincent muttered.
"Someone hasn't had their coffee or morning cancer stick yet," she countered, raising an eyebrow.
"It's the third of December. It's still too fucking early for this," Vincent protested.
"Which is why I haven't strung lights around your office or put a wreath on the door," Madeline countered, her voice sugary-sweet. "At least I waited until after Thanksgiving, Vincent!"
Vincent just groaned, before flopping down into his chair. Maybe if he ignored his assistant's perkiness, she would go away. Or at least, tone it down a few levels.
"Do the assistant thing and tell me what's on my schedule for today," Vincent demanded.
"Sheesh. Grumpy. Did Charon eat one of your toes or something today?" she asked, pressing on when she noticed the glare that Vincent was giving her. "Well, there's rounds to go on, you have a surgery at noon, and then you have a consultation at 3:45. And between rounds and the surgery, Dr. D has a patient that he wants you to take. So he wants to see you at nine for a case consult. He wouldn't tell me anything else about it," Maddy said, shrugging.
Vincent groaned. "I hope this doesn't have anything to do with D muttering about moving me to the pediatrics unit." Because, over the last few weeks, the joking about it from D had gotten a bit more of a serious tone.
"Maybe you'd be in a better mood if you got moved to pediatrics. No more surgery on old, witchy women," Maddy teased.
"I doubt it," Vincent muttered. "That's the problem with being one of the few general surgeons in the tri-city area, resident or not." He sighed. "Christ. I need caffeine and a nicotine fix to deal with your perkiness, Maddy."
"And so you don't scare your patients on your rounds," Madeline added.
Vincent sighed. It was going to be a long day. And it was just getting started.
*~*~*
Five minutes after nine found him walking into D's office.
"You're late, Dr. Harris," the Count said, not looking up from the report he was studying.
"Yeah, well... there was an issue with one of my patients," Vincent said, shaking his head.
"An issue?" D asked, looking up and arching an eyebrow.
"Yeah," Vincent said. "I had to isolate her."
"Why?"
Vincent shifted a little. But if anyone would believe him, it was D. "She was sprouting."
"She was what?" D hissed, his eyes widening.
"Sprouting. As in, she had leaves coming out of her arms. Through her skin. We had to put her on some pretty high-level stuff to dull the pain. Then I isolated her."
D groaned. "I'll need to see her immediately. Why was she even in the hospital to begin with? You're a surgeon, not a general practitioner."
"Cancer. Tumors. At least that's what we thought they were. I'm still waiting for the tests to come back, but I think that they might be the source of the sprouting," Vincent said.
"You know, you're being very calm about all of this," D said, looking at Vincent sideways.
"That's because I did all my cursing and freaking out when dealing with the situation first hand. And then I had a cigarette. Besides, with all the weird shit I have memories of, this is almost tame by comparison," Vincent said, shrugging.
"A dryad," D murmured, more to himself than to Vincent. "How would a dryad have gotten into a human city? They normally avoid them."
"No fucking clue, D. That kind of shit is more your department than mine," Vincent said, perhaps a bit too cheerfully.
How is he so calm about this? D marveled at Vincent's almost cavalier attitude towards the entire situation. After all, most doctors would not be able to remain so damnably calm while reporting that their patient was sprouting.
Finally, with a shake of his head, D got to his feet. "You might as well take me to this sprouting patient of yours. If she is a dryad, which is highly likely, I will need to look at her sooner rather than later," he said.
"And what are you going to do if she is a dryad?" Vincent asked. "She is still my patient, in case you've forgotten."
"Now is not the proper time to be getting possessive of your patients, Dr. Harris."
"Yeah, well, it's my case, and I'd rather you not sweep her away."
The Count snorted softly. "I'm hardly a white knight here to sweep her off her feet, Dr. Harris."
Vincent eyed the Count for a few long moments, before nodding, and turning to walk out. He figured D would follow. He was right. The kami was hot on his heels.
When they got to the little girl's room, she looked a little sleepy, though that might have been because of the drugs. And she smiled at Vincent. Also, Vincent noticed, someone had added some sun lamps to the room and had trained them on the little one.
"Hi Dr. Harris," she said, smiling drowsily.
"Hi, Sarah. This is Dr. D. He's going to take a look at you, okay? And who brought in the lights for you?"
"Dr. Maddy did that. She said that if I was sprouting I would need light so that I could grow. She said something about putting Miracle-Gro in my IV, but I told her I didn't want her to do that, because Daddy says that Miracle-Gro is bad for plants," Sarah said, giggling a little.
"Have at, D," Vincent said, leaning against the wall.
"Miracle-Gro," the Count muttered, shaking his head. "There is something very wrong with Madeline."
"You're preaching to the choir," Vincent said, smirking a little, though he was keeping an eye on Sarah and D.
"I like Dr. Maddy. She's nice," Sarah said, yawning a little. "Dr. D?"
"Yes, Sarah?" D said, as he looked over some read outs on the little girl's condition. She seemed all right, however, he was still confused as to how a dryad got into a city.
"Am I going to have rainbow fruit and leaves when I finish growing? That would be neat," Sarah said, watching the other doctor.
"What?" D asked, looking startled and looking at the little girl.
"I want to have rainbow fruit and leaves," Sarah repeated. "I'll be the prettiest tree ever."
"Of course you will," Vincent said, smiling a little.
D looked between the girl and Vincent, and was once again struck by two things. First, how good Vincent was with children, and second... how calm he was about the little girl that was indeed sprouting.
"Dr. Harris? When can I see my Mommy and Daddy again? They must be really worried about me," Sarah said, looking at Vincent appealingly. "And I miss them. And I want them to see the pretty leaves. They aren't that bad, except that they hurt coming out."
"I don't think that's a good idea," D said.
"And your opinion has been noted and overruled. Sarah is still my patient. And her parents should know about this. After all, I don't think we can cut those leaves off, and I don't think we should even if it were possible. Her parents are just going to have to learn how to deal with it, the way that Sarah is going to."
Vincent was staring D down perhaps a little. And Sarah was watching with interest. Well, as much interest as a sleepy nine-year-old who was on rather strong pain killers could muster. She was trying to fight the drowsiness, and losing.
"Please, Dr. D," Sarah murmured. "Mommy and Daddy won't mind."
D looked between Vincent and Sarah. "This is insanity. At least let me examine her before you go charging to get her parents. I would like to have something to tell them, after all."
"Of course you can, D," Vincent said, a bit too sweetly. "And while you do that, I'll go check on the blood work I ordered and get her parents and brief them on the situation before I bring them in."
"And what exactly will you tell them?" D asked sharply.
"That their little girl is sprouting, and that they are going to work with Sarah, and us, to figure out how best to deal with that."
D stared at Vincent for a few moments. He'd never expected such blunt honesty from the doctor. Or, perhaps, it was that he never would have gotten such honesty from Vesca. Because, despite Vincent's rather limited understanding of what Sarah was, that honesty was there, and surprisingly refreshing.
"And since there don't seem to be any more objections, I'm going to fetch Sarah's parents and check on that blood work," Vincent said. And before D could raise any further protest, the young surgeon swept out of the room.
*~*~*
Vincent sighed before shutting the file he had on Sarah. Blood work hadn't shown much, but the tests had proved that the so-called "tumors" were neither cancerous, nor were they tumors. They were the source of the sprouting, and to remove them would kill the child. So obviously, excising them was out. Vincent had never really been a believer in the whole "the treatment was a success, but unfortunately, the patient didn't survive" point of view.
Of course, the girl's parents had been less than pleased. The mother had been more relieved that her little girl was going to survive than anything else. Sarah's father had been loudly demanding to know how his daughter was supposed to lead a normal life with leaves growing out of her arms. He'd gotten to the point in his tirade where he was starting to rant about cutting them off when Sarah burst into tears. That had shut him up quickly. Especially when Sarah started holding her arms and talking about how she didn't want them cut off.
Though even D admitted that pruning would be necessary as she grew older. When Sarah'd asked what pruning was, Vincent explained that it was kind of like getting a haircut for plants: you had to cut off the dead bits so that the plant could get bigger and prettier. Sarah had calmed down considerably after that, and the situation had quickly followed.
Of course, not all of this had gotten written down in the records. Vincent had left a lot out. Hell, even in the driest medical terms imaginable, Sarah’s condition still wasn't anything that could be found in even the most obscure medical book, let alone the ICD. And to make matters even more fun, he and D had argued over what was going to go in the report, or even if there would be a report. Vincent pointed out that something would have to be submitted to insurance, since Sarah's family couldn't pay for the hospital otherwise.
Speaking of D... Vincent really needed to go looking for him to make sure that the kami wasn't messing with any more of his patients. So, setting the file aside, Vincent went to do just that.
As he headed out looking for D, Vincent pondered over what exactly was going on. After all, D was interested in his patients (and Vincent's, which was really damned annoying), but not the way a normal doctor would be. He always seemed to care more about the babies he worked with than their mothers, but even then, he seemed to lose interest in the children within twenty-four hours. He didn't let himself get attached to patients, even the patients who really needed someone to get attached to them in Vincent's opinion. And there were a lot of those at St. Rita's.
Or maybe Vincent just cared too much. People had accused him of that before. They told him if he didn't care so much about his patients, if he didn't get so attached, then he wouldn't take it so hard when he lost them. People thought the people who told him that were full of shit. Of course, trying to figure out D's motivations always brought up the same question again and again: why was D working in a hospital anyway? Especially since he was helping the very people that he was, at one point, trying to completely wipe out. It was a big step from genocide to healing people after all. And Vincent was still trying to figure out the disconnect between destroying life and fostering it, at least on D's part.
He supposed he could always cash in on that promise he pulled from D, but he wanted to save that for something important. After all, one shot was all he was going to get. He wasn't stupid enough to think that he could get more than one straight answer out of the kami with the promise he'd gotten from D. After all, he had a feeling that D was enough of a stickler to focus in on the "next time I ask you a question" part and therefore refuse to answer more than one. Hell, Vincent was surprised he'd managed to get that much out of D in the first place.
Vincent finally came upon D in the neonatal ward with one of the babies. Well, D wasn't messing with any of his patients at least. Rather... the other doctor was doing... what the hell was D up to anyway? That really was the question of the hour. And Vincent didn't say anything in favor of watching.
D was doing something with a newborn that had to have been delivered less than an hour ago. "Don't worry little one, this won't hurt a bit," D cooed at the baby. The baby simply stared at D before bursting into tears.
Brilliant, D, Vincent thought, rolling his eyes. Make the kid scream and possibly scar him for life. Great idea. Really, though, what was D doing? Currently, it looked like he was singing to the little one in Chinese and trying to calm it down.
Vincent was about to say something, but stopped himself. Interrupting now could be problematic. And he could lose the only chance he'd gotten so far to see what the hell D was up to. And really, so long as D didn't look like he was going to kill the kid, then there was no reason for him to intervene. Not yet, anyway.
The baby slowly calmed as D sang to it, and soon it had dozed off in the way only newborns and cats seemed to be able to do. Especially since Vincent had the feeling that the kid would be screaming again in several minutes. These kinds of calms never lasted long. He'd delivered enough babies in his life to know that much.
When the baby had fallen asleep, D put it down on a blanket in one of the baby holders. (That was what Vincent had always thought of them as.) Vincent then watched as D, who was still humming to himself, walked over and pulled out two vials of... something, before he took out a syringe. He drew liquid first from one vial, then the other, before walking over and injecting the baby with it.
The child, of course, woke up and began screaming again.
"Hush little one. Everything will be all right," D murmured as he tried to soothe the child.
Now, Vincent was no obstetrician, but he knew that children that young didn't get vaccinated, or injected, or whatever the fuck it was that D had just done. And he made a mental note to observe D carefully for awhile. Also he made a mental note to check the charts of the babies D delivered, both in the recent past, and over the next few weeks. After all, he doubted that these injections were getting put on the babies' charts. And if that were the case... well, it would be better to figure out what the hell was going on before telling anyone about it. After all, while the ethics board would probably be quite interested in what would probably turn out to be dozens (at least) of undocumented injections, it there was no need to jump the gun.
After all, Vincent thought as he started walking away (though not before getting the name of the baby that D was injecting, so he could check the chart later), we might as well see what the fuck is going on before figuring out what the hell to do about it. No sense going into things half-cocked. It's safer that way. And less head trauma for all involved.
After all, he wasn't Vesca Howell. And if memory served, going into things half cocked was how the agent had gotten a suitcase smashed into his head. And Vincent, unlike Howell, needed his medical school. Besides... no use getting in trouble with the wrong people if there was nothing to get in trouble over. And sometimes, watching and waiting was more productive than flying off the handle half-cocked. Vincent had learned that from experience if nothing else.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
So... without further ado...
Title: Same Words, Different Situation - Part 6
Fandom: Petshop of Horrors
Rating: PG-13
Archive: Ask and ye shall be as gods receive
Warning: Lots of profanity, flashbacks, reincarnation, possible errors about certain medical professions
Spoilers: Volume 10 of the Petshop of Horrors manga is mentioned, and will likely continue to be so. The Papa D/Vesca side story from Shin Petshop of Horrors might also be referenced
There was mistletoe in his office.
That was the first thing that Vincent noticed that morning. He sighed as he brushed the snow out of his hair. Winter had come a bit earlier than normal this year, and the snow, which generally waited until after Christmas, had come at the beginning of December. Getting to work on the bike this morning had been interesting in the Chinese curse sense of the word. And now there was mistletoe.
"What the fuck is this?" Vincent groused, glaring at the mistletoe as he shrugged out of his coat.
"It's mistletoe, Vince," his assistant's ever-cheerful voice informed him.
Vincent turned, glaring at Madeline, who had materialized in the doorway.
"I know that! Why is it in my office, Maddy?" Vincent growled.
"It's called Holiday Cheer. You should get acquainted with it," Maddy teased.
"Who appointed you the goddamn sugar plum fairy, Maddy?" Vincent muttered.
"Someone hasn't had their coffee or morning cancer stick yet," she countered, raising an eyebrow.
"It's the third of December. It's still too fucking early for this," Vincent protested.
"Which is why I haven't strung lights around your office or put a wreath on the door," Madeline countered, her voice sugary-sweet. "At least I waited until after Thanksgiving, Vincent!"
Vincent just groaned, before flopping down into his chair. Maybe if he ignored his assistant's perkiness, she would go away. Or at least, tone it down a few levels.
"Do the assistant thing and tell me what's on my schedule for today," Vincent demanded.
"Sheesh. Grumpy. Did Charon eat one of your toes or something today?" she asked, pressing on when she noticed the glare that Vincent was giving her. "Well, there's rounds to go on, you have a surgery at noon, and then you have a consultation at 3:45. And between rounds and the surgery, Dr. D has a patient that he wants you to take. So he wants to see you at nine for a case consult. He wouldn't tell me anything else about it," Maddy said, shrugging.
Vincent groaned. "I hope this doesn't have anything to do with D muttering about moving me to the pediatrics unit." Because, over the last few weeks, the joking about it from D had gotten a bit more of a serious tone.
"Maybe you'd be in a better mood if you got moved to pediatrics. No more surgery on old, witchy women," Maddy teased.
"I doubt it," Vincent muttered. "That's the problem with being one of the few general surgeons in the tri-city area, resident or not." He sighed. "Christ. I need caffeine and a nicotine fix to deal with your perkiness, Maddy."
"And so you don't scare your patients on your rounds," Madeline added.
Vincent sighed. It was going to be a long day. And it was just getting started.
*~*~*
Five minutes after nine found him walking into D's office.
"You're late, Dr. Harris," the Count said, not looking up from the report he was studying.
"Yeah, well... there was an issue with one of my patients," Vincent said, shaking his head.
"An issue?" D asked, looking up and arching an eyebrow.
"Yeah," Vincent said. "I had to isolate her."
"Why?"
Vincent shifted a little. But if anyone would believe him, it was D. "She was sprouting."
"She was what?" D hissed, his eyes widening.
"Sprouting. As in, she had leaves coming out of her arms. Through her skin. We had to put her on some pretty high-level stuff to dull the pain. Then I isolated her."
D groaned. "I'll need to see her immediately. Why was she even in the hospital to begin with? You're a surgeon, not a general practitioner."
"Cancer. Tumors. At least that's what we thought they were. I'm still waiting for the tests to come back, but I think that they might be the source of the sprouting," Vincent said.
"You know, you're being very calm about all of this," D said, looking at Vincent sideways.
"That's because I did all my cursing and freaking out when dealing with the situation first hand. And then I had a cigarette. Besides, with all the weird shit I have memories of, this is almost tame by comparison," Vincent said, shrugging.
"A dryad," D murmured, more to himself than to Vincent. "How would a dryad have gotten into a human city? They normally avoid them."
"No fucking clue, D. That kind of shit is more your department than mine," Vincent said, perhaps a bit too cheerfully.
How is he so calm about this? D marveled at Vincent's almost cavalier attitude towards the entire situation. After all, most doctors would not be able to remain so damnably calm while reporting that their patient was sprouting.
Finally, with a shake of his head, D got to his feet. "You might as well take me to this sprouting patient of yours. If she is a dryad, which is highly likely, I will need to look at her sooner rather than later," he said.
"And what are you going to do if she is a dryad?" Vincent asked. "She is still my patient, in case you've forgotten."
"Now is not the proper time to be getting possessive of your patients, Dr. Harris."
"Yeah, well, it's my case, and I'd rather you not sweep her away."
The Count snorted softly. "I'm hardly a white knight here to sweep her off her feet, Dr. Harris."
Vincent eyed the Count for a few long moments, before nodding, and turning to walk out. He figured D would follow. He was right. The kami was hot on his heels.
When they got to the little girl's room, she looked a little sleepy, though that might have been because of the drugs. And she smiled at Vincent. Also, Vincent noticed, someone had added some sun lamps to the room and had trained them on the little one.
"Hi Dr. Harris," she said, smiling drowsily.
"Hi, Sarah. This is Dr. D. He's going to take a look at you, okay? And who brought in the lights for you?"
"Dr. Maddy did that. She said that if I was sprouting I would need light so that I could grow. She said something about putting Miracle-Gro in my IV, but I told her I didn't want her to do that, because Daddy says that Miracle-Gro is bad for plants," Sarah said, giggling a little.
"Have at, D," Vincent said, leaning against the wall.
"Miracle-Gro," the Count muttered, shaking his head. "There is something very wrong with Madeline."
"You're preaching to the choir," Vincent said, smirking a little, though he was keeping an eye on Sarah and D.
"I like Dr. Maddy. She's nice," Sarah said, yawning a little. "Dr. D?"
"Yes, Sarah?" D said, as he looked over some read outs on the little girl's condition. She seemed all right, however, he was still confused as to how a dryad got into a city.
"Am I going to have rainbow fruit and leaves when I finish growing? That would be neat," Sarah said, watching the other doctor.
"What?" D asked, looking startled and looking at the little girl.
"I want to have rainbow fruit and leaves," Sarah repeated. "I'll be the prettiest tree ever."
"Of course you will," Vincent said, smiling a little.
D looked between the girl and Vincent, and was once again struck by two things. First, how good Vincent was with children, and second... how calm he was about the little girl that was indeed sprouting.
"Dr. Harris? When can I see my Mommy and Daddy again? They must be really worried about me," Sarah said, looking at Vincent appealingly. "And I miss them. And I want them to see the pretty leaves. They aren't that bad, except that they hurt coming out."
"I don't think that's a good idea," D said.
"And your opinion has been noted and overruled. Sarah is still my patient. And her parents should know about this. After all, I don't think we can cut those leaves off, and I don't think we should even if it were possible. Her parents are just going to have to learn how to deal with it, the way that Sarah is going to."
Vincent was staring D down perhaps a little. And Sarah was watching with interest. Well, as much interest as a sleepy nine-year-old who was on rather strong pain killers could muster. She was trying to fight the drowsiness, and losing.
"Please, Dr. D," Sarah murmured. "Mommy and Daddy won't mind."
D looked between Vincent and Sarah. "This is insanity. At least let me examine her before you go charging to get her parents. I would like to have something to tell them, after all."
"Of course you can, D," Vincent said, a bit too sweetly. "And while you do that, I'll go check on the blood work I ordered and get her parents and brief them on the situation before I bring them in."
"And what exactly will you tell them?" D asked sharply.
"That their little girl is sprouting, and that they are going to work with Sarah, and us, to figure out how best to deal with that."
D stared at Vincent for a few moments. He'd never expected such blunt honesty from the doctor. Or, perhaps, it was that he never would have gotten such honesty from Vesca. Because, despite Vincent's rather limited understanding of what Sarah was, that honesty was there, and surprisingly refreshing.
"And since there don't seem to be any more objections, I'm going to fetch Sarah's parents and check on that blood work," Vincent said. And before D could raise any further protest, the young surgeon swept out of the room.
*~*~*
Vincent sighed before shutting the file he had on Sarah. Blood work hadn't shown much, but the tests had proved that the so-called "tumors" were neither cancerous, nor were they tumors. They were the source of the sprouting, and to remove them would kill the child. So obviously, excising them was out. Vincent had never really been a believer in the whole "the treatment was a success, but unfortunately, the patient didn't survive" point of view.
Of course, the girl's parents had been less than pleased. The mother had been more relieved that her little girl was going to survive than anything else. Sarah's father had been loudly demanding to know how his daughter was supposed to lead a normal life with leaves growing out of her arms. He'd gotten to the point in his tirade where he was starting to rant about cutting them off when Sarah burst into tears. That had shut him up quickly. Especially when Sarah started holding her arms and talking about how she didn't want them cut off.
Though even D admitted that pruning would be necessary as she grew older. When Sarah'd asked what pruning was, Vincent explained that it was kind of like getting a haircut for plants: you had to cut off the dead bits so that the plant could get bigger and prettier. Sarah had calmed down considerably after that, and the situation had quickly followed.
Of course, not all of this had gotten written down in the records. Vincent had left a lot out. Hell, even in the driest medical terms imaginable, Sarah’s condition still wasn't anything that could be found in even the most obscure medical book, let alone the ICD. And to make matters even more fun, he and D had argued over what was going to go in the report, or even if there would be a report. Vincent pointed out that something would have to be submitted to insurance, since Sarah's family couldn't pay for the hospital otherwise.
Speaking of D... Vincent really needed to go looking for him to make sure that the kami wasn't messing with any more of his patients. So, setting the file aside, Vincent went to do just that.
As he headed out looking for D, Vincent pondered over what exactly was going on. After all, D was interested in his patients (and Vincent's, which was really damned annoying), but not the way a normal doctor would be. He always seemed to care more about the babies he worked with than their mothers, but even then, he seemed to lose interest in the children within twenty-four hours. He didn't let himself get attached to patients, even the patients who really needed someone to get attached to them in Vincent's opinion. And there were a lot of those at St. Rita's.
Or maybe Vincent just cared too much. People had accused him of that before. They told him if he didn't care so much about his patients, if he didn't get so attached, then he wouldn't take it so hard when he lost them. People thought the people who told him that were full of shit. Of course, trying to figure out D's motivations always brought up the same question again and again: why was D working in a hospital anyway? Especially since he was helping the very people that he was, at one point, trying to completely wipe out. It was a big step from genocide to healing people after all. And Vincent was still trying to figure out the disconnect between destroying life and fostering it, at least on D's part.
He supposed he could always cash in on that promise he pulled from D, but he wanted to save that for something important. After all, one shot was all he was going to get. He wasn't stupid enough to think that he could get more than one straight answer out of the kami with the promise he'd gotten from D. After all, he had a feeling that D was enough of a stickler to focus in on the "next time I ask you a question" part and therefore refuse to answer more than one. Hell, Vincent was surprised he'd managed to get that much out of D in the first place.
Vincent finally came upon D in the neonatal ward with one of the babies. Well, D wasn't messing with any of his patients at least. Rather... the other doctor was doing... what the hell was D up to anyway? That really was the question of the hour. And Vincent didn't say anything in favor of watching.
D was doing something with a newborn that had to have been delivered less than an hour ago. "Don't worry little one, this won't hurt a bit," D cooed at the baby. The baby simply stared at D before bursting into tears.
Brilliant, D, Vincent thought, rolling his eyes. Make the kid scream and possibly scar him for life. Great idea. Really, though, what was D doing? Currently, it looked like he was singing to the little one in Chinese and trying to calm it down.
Vincent was about to say something, but stopped himself. Interrupting now could be problematic. And he could lose the only chance he'd gotten so far to see what the hell D was up to. And really, so long as D didn't look like he was going to kill the kid, then there was no reason for him to intervene. Not yet, anyway.
The baby slowly calmed as D sang to it, and soon it had dozed off in the way only newborns and cats seemed to be able to do. Especially since Vincent had the feeling that the kid would be screaming again in several minutes. These kinds of calms never lasted long. He'd delivered enough babies in his life to know that much.
When the baby had fallen asleep, D put it down on a blanket in one of the baby holders. (That was what Vincent had always thought of them as.) Vincent then watched as D, who was still humming to himself, walked over and pulled out two vials of... something, before he took out a syringe. He drew liquid first from one vial, then the other, before walking over and injecting the baby with it.
The child, of course, woke up and began screaming again.
"Hush little one. Everything will be all right," D murmured as he tried to soothe the child.
Now, Vincent was no obstetrician, but he knew that children that young didn't get vaccinated, or injected, or whatever the fuck it was that D had just done. And he made a mental note to observe D carefully for awhile. Also he made a mental note to check the charts of the babies D delivered, both in the recent past, and over the next few weeks. After all, he doubted that these injections were getting put on the babies' charts. And if that were the case... well, it would be better to figure out what the hell was going on before telling anyone about it. After all, while the ethics board would probably be quite interested in what would probably turn out to be dozens (at least) of undocumented injections, it there was no need to jump the gun.
After all, Vincent thought as he started walking away (though not before getting the name of the baby that D was injecting, so he could check the chart later), we might as well see what the fuck is going on before figuring out what the hell to do about it. No sense going into things half-cocked. It's safer that way. And less head trauma for all involved.
After all, he wasn't Vesca Howell. And if memory served, going into things half cocked was how the agent had gotten a suitcase smashed into his head. And Vincent, unlike Howell, needed his medical school. Besides... no use getting in trouble with the wrong people if there was nothing to get in trouble over. And sometimes, watching and waiting was more productive than flying off the handle half-cocked. Vincent had learned that from experience if nothing else.
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Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5